“Then most men are easily manipulated and to be pitied. One begins to suspect holy matrimony was devised for the protection of men, and not the fairer sex after all.”

“So you have no more regard for being a wife than you do being a mistress?”

“It depends entirely on whose wife we’re talking about.” Anna rose and went to look out the windows. “This room is so pretty and light and inviting. I could particularly see curling up on one of these window seats with Sir Walter Scott or some John Donne.”

“Let’s assess some more of the house,” the earl said, lacing his fingers with hers. As they wended their way from room to room, Anna noted that the earl, away from his townhouse at least, was a toucher. She’d seen the same tendency when he was with his brother. He laid a hand on Val’s sleeve, straightened Val’s collar, patted his back, and otherwise treated his brother with affection. It was the same with Nanny Fran, whom he kissed on the cheek, hugged, and allowed to treat him with similar familiarity.

With Anna, he took her hand, offered his arm, put his hand on the small of her back, brushed aside her hair, and otherwise kept up a steady campaign of casual touches.

Casual to him, Anna thought, knowing she was being sillier than any woman of five and twenty had a right to be. To her, these little gestures were sweet and attractive, that is, they fascinated her and made her want to stand too close to him.

Outside, he assisted her over stiles and fences, picked her a daisy and positioned it behind her ear, stole a little kiss under the rose arbor, and tucked her against his side while they explored the garden walks.

“Were you like this with Elise?” Anna asked when they’d found a wooden bench in some shade near the roses.

“Good God, Anna.” The earl looked over at her in consternation. “A man does not discuss his mistress with decent women.”

“I am not asking about Elise. I am asking about you.”

“When I saw Elise in social settings,” the earl replied, eyes on the house across the gardens, “we were cordial. I occasionally danced with her, but she did not enjoy my partnering, as I am too tall.”

“You are too…?” Anna scowled at that. “You are not too tall.”

“Perhaps you can prove that point by dancing with me sometime?”

She cocked her head at him and decided he was teasing. “So when you met socially, you behaved as acquaintances. What about when you were simply whiling away a morning?”

“When I did not run into Elise at an evening gathering of polite society, I saw her by appointment, in the afternoon,” the earl said, resting an arm along the back of the bench with a sigh.

“By appointment, only?” Anna’s surprise seemed to perplex him.

“You know my week included visits to her,” the earl replied mildly. “Regular visits allowed her to schedule the rest of her affairs, so to speak.”

“The rest of her affairs? And is this all you wanted? An hour of her attention twice a week, scheduled in advance so as to only minimally inconvenience her?”

“Well, more or less,” the earl admitted, clearly puzzled by Anna’s indignation.

“And that is how you go about passion? I suppose you left her free to pursue any other pair of broad shoulders she pleased when you were not bothering her?”

“In retrospect, one can admit there were a few subtle indicators the situation was not ideal, but we are not discussing this further, Anna Seaton. And for your information, that is not how I prefer to go about passion.” He folded her hand between both of his and fell silent. Topic closed.

“You deserve more than to be tolerated for a few hours a week in exchange for parting with your coin. Any good man does.”

“Your sentiments are appreciated,” the earl said, amusement back in his tone. “Shall we see what we can find in that hamper you brought? The thing weighed a ton, which is good, as my appetite is making itself known.”

Topic closed, subject changed.

“We’ll need the blanket from the gig, I think,” Anna said, willing to drop the discussion of his former mistress. “I saw no dining table nor much in the way of chairs inside.”

“I gather the matched sets and so forth were auctioned this spring,” the earl said, tugging Anna to her feet. “What do you think of the place so far?”

“It’s pretty, peaceful, and not too far from Town. So far I love it, but who are your neighbors?”

“Now that is not something I would have considered, except that you raise it, and to a widow, such a thing would matter. I will make inquiries, though I know my niece dwells less than three miles farther up the road we came in on.”

“Her aunt would like that, I’m sure, being close to Rose,” Anna said as they walked back into the kitchen.

“Rose wouldn’t mind, either. She gets on with everybody, even His Grace.”

“You see him only as a father. As a grandpapa, he may be different.”

They retrieved the blankets—two of them—and strolled through the lawns toward the spot for which the property was named, a grassy little knoll overlooking a wide, slow stream. Weeping willows grew on both banks, their branches trailing into the slow-moving water and giving the little space a private, magical quality.

“Perfect for wading,” Anna said. “Will you be scandalized?”

“Not if you don’t mind my disrobing to swim,” the earl replied evenly.

“Naughty man. I bet you and your brothers did your share of that, growing up at Morelands.”

“We did.” The earl unfolded a blanket and flapped it out onto a shady patch of ground. “Morelands has grown, generation by generation, to the point where it’s tens of thousands of acres, complete with ponds, streams, and even a waterfall. I learned to hunt, fish, swim, ride, and more just rambling around with my brothers.”

“It sounds idyllic.”

“So where did you grow up, Anna?” The earl sat down on the blanket. “You aren’t going to loom over me, are you?”

Anna folded to the blanket beside him, realizing how vague her notion of the day had been. A few kisses, a tour of the property, and back to the realities of their lives at the townhouse. She hadn’t considered they would talk and talk and talk, nor that she would enjoy that as much as the kissing.

“Hand me the hamper,” she ordered. “I will make us up plates. There is lemonade and wine, both.”

“Heaven forefend! Wine on a weekday before noon, Mrs. Seaton?”

“I love a good cold white,” Anna admitted, “and a hearty red.”

“I hope you put some of what you love in that hamper. This is a long way to come for bannocks.”

“Not burned bannocks, please,” she said, pawing carefully through the hamper. When she finished, Westhaven was presented with sliced strawberries, cheese, buttered slices of bread, cold chicken, and two pieces of marzipan.

“And what have we here?” The earl peered into the hamper and extracted a tall bottle. “Champagne?”

“What?” Anna looked up. “I didn’t put that in there.”

“I detect the subtle hand of Nanny Fran. A glass, if you please.”

Anna obligingly held the glass while the earl popped the cork. She shamelessly sipped the fizzy overflow and held the glass out to him. He drank without taking the glass into his own hand and smiled at her.

“That will do,” he declared. “For a hot summer day, it will do splendidly.”

“Then you can pour me a glass, as well.”

“As you wish,” he replied, accommodating her order and filling a glass for himself, too. To Anna’s surprise, before either drinking or diving into his meal, the earl paused to wrench off his boots and stockings.

“I have it on good authority extreme heat is dangerous and one shouldn’t wear clothes unnecessarily, or so my footmen tell me when I catch them only half liveried.” He sipped at his wine, hiding what had to be a smile.

“I did not precisely tell them that, though it’s probably good advice.”